Role Reversals

I've never really been upset by my own aging. While many of my opinions have changed over the years (well, a few) and my hair has gone mostly grey and silver and the bags under my eyes my have gotten a little bigger, I feel that for the most part, I am aging pretty well. 

No, the worst part of aging is watching our parents age...

Mom called me at the Day Job this morning (not an unusual thing) and left me a voice mail that said "Call me right away, please!" The tone of her message was not her usual. I called and after she picked up, there was some fumbling and then quiet. "Hello?" I said. "Mom?" Hello?" Then she said, "I think I'm going to call 911. I think I'm having a heart attack."

"Hang up and call them now! I'll be right there!" My boss had heard and simply said: "Go!"

I raced from work to find her already in the ambulance when I got there. She was having trouble breathing. Long time readers will remember our last ambulance trip to the hospital for an episode of diabetic shock, which ended up in a 5-night stay. This time it seems that congestive heart failure led to fluid retention resulting in respiratory distress. Mom was scared and upset and kept apologizing for upsetting me and disrupting my day. The E.R. nurses were terrific about getting her blankets, pillows and whatever else she needed. I went and got some lunch and made a few calls, then headed back to the hospital with her book, a hairbrush and some toiletries she requested.

She's spending at least one night in the ICU while they give her diuretics to get rid of the fluids. The ICU nurse (a very nice lady named Vivian) explained everything that was going on and assured me that she's going to be okay. I don't honestly expect her to be released until Sunday or Monday. She has yet to see her cardiologist (a 6'5" hottie who reminds me of Michael Crichton and whom she adores), though I expect I'll hear from him tomorrow. Everyone, from the EMTs to the attending physician, says she did the right thing by calling 911. And I must once again commend the members of the Levittown/Fairless Hills Rescue Squad and the staff at Lower Bucks Hospital who have all been wonderful.

I hate that I have to watch her deteriorate. This once strong-willed, speed-walking powerhouse of a woman is increasingly becoming a frail, little old lady and I hate it. Now I'm doubly worried about her upcoming shoulder-replacement surgery. Of course, this episode may have postponed that for a while...

Having seen my aunt care for my grandmother after her stroke, helped me prepare a bit for what was to come, but these ladies have some smart things to say for folks in my situation:

If you're parents are aging and/or ailing, I hear you. Don't ever be afraid to reach out. I'll listen and know what you're going through.

More, anon.
Prospero

Damage Control

This is what happens when you jump the curb at a shopping center. 

My poor mother, on her way to her weekly hair appointment yesterday afternoon, attempted to park in front of the dry cleaner's next door to her salon. The poor thing says she has no idea what happened. "The car (a 2006 Hyundai Santa Fe) just shot forward," she told me and the police. I suspect she accidentally stepped on the gas instead of the brake, though she swears she no feet on any pedal at the time. Luckily, no one was hurt and amazingly, her car suffered only minor damage: a fist-sized dent in the right fender; a broken parking light and a few scratches to the bumper. A true testament to the safety of the Santa Fe (I drive one, as well). And to top it all off, after the police and EMT's left, she went and had her hair done!

Of course, this isn't the first time this has happened. She did the same thing last summer at my house, running into my shed and destroying a small table and chair, that time admitting she accidentally put the transmission into 'Drive' instead of 'Reverse.' And a just few weeks ago, she grew very confused and upset in the parking lot of another local shopping center while we were out Christmas shopping. I ended up taking over for her and extricating the car from the corner in which she'd trapped herself, but she insisted on driving home and scaring the crap out of me while doing so.

Mom's only 70; hardly old by today's standards. But her health is not the best. You may remember an incident in February of 2010, where I found her in diabetic shock, resulting in a week's stay in the hospital. Severe arthritis in her knees makes walking difficult and 50+ years of heavy smoking have impacted both her heart and lungs. Her hearing is going, though she refuses to admit it and since retiring, these conditions only seem to have worsened. 

My first reaction to yesterday's accident was: "I'm taking away her keys." Of course, the mere mention of doing so sent her into paroxysms of anger and denial. But I am afraid she is a danger to herself and others and it's only a matter of time before someone gets seriously injured. So I am asking you, dear readers, what would or have you done in similar situations? Anyone else out there caring for an ailing, elderly and exceptionally stubborn parent?  Any advice you have is greatly appreciated.

More, anon.

Prospero

Unconditional Love

The Most Adorable Boy on TV

I have already shared what I'm about to talk about on Facebook, but I think it deserves as wide an audience as possible, so I'm talking about here as well.

You all know I've officially declared Darren Criss The Most Adorable Boy on Television (and one of the few reasons I still watch "Glee"). Uncle P may be getting on in years, but that doesn't mean he can't appreciate beautiful (not to mention talented) things when he sees them. But this post isn't about me. Or Darren Criss. It's about two amazing parents and a very self-aware child who they love no matter what.

You may remember Nerdy Apple Bottom, the NY wife of a cop who defended her young son's choice to wear a Daphne (of "Scooby-Doo") costume to school last Halloween. Now comes this post from Gets Too Obsessed, who told the story of her six year-old son's crush on Blaine (Criss' "Glee" character) and his admission that he only wants to kiss boys. Here's an excerpt:

Then the other day we were traveling across the state listening to the Warblers album (of course), and in the middle of Candles, my son pipes up from the back seat.

“Mommy, Kurt and Blaine are boyfriends.”

“Yes, they are,” I affirm.

“They don’t like kissing girls.  They just kiss boys.”

“That’s true.”

“Mommy, they are just like me.”

“That’s great, baby.  You know I love you no matter what?”

“I know…” I could hear him rolling his eyes at me.

When we got home I recapped this conversation to his Dad, and we stood simply looking into each other’s eyes for a moment.  Then we smiled.

“So if at 16 he wants to make a big announcement at the dinner table, we can say ‘You told us when you were six.  Pass the carrots’ and he’ll be disappointed we stole his big dramatic moment,” my husband says with a laugh and hugs me.

Only time will tell if my son is gay, but if he is I am glad he’s mine.  I am glad he has been born into our family.  A family full of people who will love and accept him.  People who will never want him to change.  With parents who will look forward to dancing at his wedding.

And I have to admit, Blaine would be a really cute son-in-law.

Wow! Just... Wow! I can't imagine better parents than these two. Can you imagine how much better the world would be if every parent was so accepting, so loving and so nonjudgmental? The Ann Coulters, Rick Perrys, Rick Santorums and Michelle Bachmanns of the world would cease to have relevance. NOM, Maggie Gallagher and her supporters would be universally ridiculed and the Westboro Baptists would melt like the Wicked Witch under a bucket of love. 

And to be honest, I can't blame the boy for crushing on Blaine:

Here's the thing: No matter who or what your child is; no matter who or how they love; no matter what happens in their lives, your children are a direct reflection of you. Love your children; support your children and let them know that no matter what, you will always love them. Gay, straight, bi or trans, your children deserve your love and support no matter what.

To parents who don't get it, or think that God hates their gay/bi/trans child - you are wrong. And you know that in your heart. Please share that post with everyone you know. Love is never wrong. Hate is always wrong. Don't confuse the two. 

Another rant over.

More, anon.

Prospero